The Summit
by ReadyFred-ReadyGeorge
Summary: Sort of a sequel to 'So what happened to the suicide pills': Baird tells his unborn child a story about a battle during the war. Contains slight Baird/Sam in the flashbacks, and an awful lot more in the present day. Rated M once again for langauge.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, I know I should be working on Amegakure, and I am, Chapter 7 is well underway, but the positive response to 'So, what happened to the Suicide Pills?' got me in the mood for some more Gears of War Fics, specifically involving Baird and Sam. So here I am, writing in between bursts of playing 'King of the Hill' on Gears 3._

_This fanfic is dedicated to JadziaCee for her incredible review of 'So what happened to the suicide pills?' and for her fun, insightful and intellectual messages since. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gears of War, neither Kim nor Tai would have died if I did. Id've still killed Dom though, he deserved a hero's death, sad though it is. I'm gonna stop getting mushy over fiction and start writing some now._

The Summit

Chapter 1: Children's Stories

_Anvegad: Mid-Winter. 20_ _Years after E-Day_

The cabin wasn't as large as he would have liked, nor as close to civilization, but, to coin a ridiculously overused phrase, It was home. They'd built it themselves about a year after the war ended, with help here and there from the rest of Delta of course. Cole had been particularly enthusiastic, the post-war period hadn't been good for his adrenaline, naturally he had dusted off his lancer and taken his chainsaw to more trees than the rest of Delta Squad combined in order to get his oldest friend's home together. If Sam hadn't sent him home at sunset everyday he'd have become an environmental hazard. And it was memories like that that compensated, in Baird's mind, for why it was small-ish and in the middle of the woods near Anvil Gate, rather than some penthouse apartment on Vectes, or in Ephrya now the renovations were underway. Well, the memories _did_ compensate, but not half as much as _she _ did.

Sam Byrne reclined in the armchair in front of the television, stroking her growing bump. It had been four months since she found out she was going to have a baby, four months of manic hyperactivity. The memories washed themselves together, like a painting caught in the rain. She could clearly discern the start: The monumentally priceless look on her husband's face when she'd told him, a look that could only be described scientifically (in Augustus Cole's definition of the word 'Scientific') as: 'Holy Motherfucking Shit.' Every recollection after that was a bit of an abstract blur however, albeit the best kind of abstract blur imaginable. She couldn't precisely tell whether Cole's impassioned speech about Baird finally ceasing 'shooting blanks' came before or after Colonel Hoffman and Bernie dropped by to offer their congratulations. Either way, the time had passed briskly and happily, leaving her both contented and comfortable in her spouse's favourite armchair. The chair's usual occupant was stood at the far end of the room, watching the snow fall idly outside, taking it's leisurely time to caress the ground, like a lover savouring the moment of intimate contact.

'What's wrong Blondie?' Sam chirped, causing her husband to grin and stroll over to her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

'Nothing Fatso' he replied playfully, showing off his trademark 'I am God, kneel and worship me' grin. Sam mimed shock and placed a protective hand on her growing tummy, smiling through her eyes throughout.

'It's your fault' she chirped back, indicating her bump, which Baird patted affectionately.

'Funny, I don't remember you complaining when it got there.' He sniped back at her, grinning from ear to ear as she ran out of comebacks and resorted to sticking her tongue out at him. Some things in life changed, verbal sparring didn't...ever.

'In all seriousness though sweetheart, what's on your mind?' Having known him for eight years and having been his wife for three, she could read him like a book in under a second. She could always penetrate her husband's mood, however he tried to mask it, like Sherlock Holmes, compacted into 'one-trick-pony' format. Defeated, Baird slouched his shoulders and resumed his place by the window.

'I don't like Snow, it reminds me too much of 'The Summit.'' He replied, a weary heart wiping away it's tears on every breath. Sam nodded understandingly. She knew the story, she'd been there. For once, she didn't need to rifle through his possessions to uncover his past, not that sifting through his belongings had ever done them any harm, rather the opposite. But she was dragged mercilessly, yet at the same time welcomingly from her thoughts by a sharp pain in her belly. In half a heartbeat, Baird was beside her, gripping her hand in those rough, manly engineer's mitts he called hands.

'What's wrong honey?' he asked. She loved the way that his soldier's instinct kicked in for any tiny little problem, it bound them together as Gears, as well as husband and wife, adding another welcome layer to their union. She smiled slightly to assuage his worries and guided his hand to her belly.

'She's kicking.' He whispered. Now Sam had another look to add to the list of priceless Damon Baird mugshots, eyebrows a mile high, jaw slacked, pupils zoned out...yup, she was filing this one away under 'In awe of mother nature.' The baby had kicked before, and every time the look was different, as though the experience never got old for him, another happy reminder of impending fatherhood.

'I think he wants his Daddy to tell him a story.' They always did this, agreeing to disagree on the child's gender, it spared an argument between '_maternal instinct'_ and '_Baird is omnipotent._' Damon gave her a serious look; he knew what she was getting at. Their unborn child had demanded their attention the moment he'd mentioned 'The Summit' so there was no points for guessing what Sam supposed she, or indeed he, wanted to hear about. But another feature of incoming parentage was that Baird's usual prickly hide would go softer than melted cheddar if the child was involved. Sighing deeply, Baird took a seat on the sofa, opposite Sam, who was smiling contentedly.

'Go on Damon, entertain us.' She whispered softly; laden with the unconditional love of wife and child, the words bolted for their target, eager to deposit their message and amorous burden. Ruffling his teasingly spiky blonde hair and settling himself comfortably into his chair, Baird began.

_COG Outpost 100427 Alpha. Silverback Mountains, Northern Tyrus. A.K.A: The Summit. _

_13 Years after E-Day._

Private Damon Baird fought every nerve in his body to stand to attention and keep rigid as a ramrod like all the other Gears in the parade ground. The cold wind shot lances of icy pain through every pore in his body, as though the weather was trying to not only freeze off his extremities, but stab him to death as well. The only things keeping him bothered enough to carry on was the promise of a hot meal later, and the fact that a certain Samantha Byrne was stood right next to him having exactly the same problem. Her usually tanned chest was unnervingly pale, like the snow had gotten under her very skin. Baird was shaken from his observation by two things, A) Byrne giving him a 'my face is up here' glare that could give a child nightmares, and more importantly B) Colonel Hoffman shouting down the PA system from the podium at the front of the courtyard.

'Soldiers of the COG, welcome to The Summit.' Hoffman took a calculated pause, partially for effect, mostly to grab another breath of the far-too-thin mountain air. 'You'll be pleased to know that this particular base is the rallying point of the first, and only line of human defence north of Jacinto. So think yourselves honoured at being entrusted to guard such a valuable location.'

'Gee, I'm fucking ecstatic' Baird muttered under his breath, earning him a discrete, but no less effective elbow in the ribs from Sam.

'I cannot stress enough the importance of this location. If this base falls, well then, we may as well just invite the Grubs into Jacinto and roll out the red carpet for them!' Hoffman shot his patented icy glare into the eyes of every gear assembled before continuing. 'You are here, because you are supposed to be the best, most determined, most effective, most downright fearless soldiers in the entire COG Army. Let me tell you, you will goddamned have to be to survive more than a week in this base! The Locust have been attempting to take this location almost ceaselessly since the war began, and after 13 years of valiant defence, at the cost of too many lives to count, WE ARE STILL HERE! AND I WILL BE DAMNED IF THE LOCUST HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT!'

The cheer that greeted Hoffman's words was astounding. Baird had to hand it to the Colonel, he knew how to do motivation. The Pendulum Wars had instilled that in him, and 13 years shooting his way through Locust had refined it to a brutally sharp edge.

'I hand you over to the man who will be responsible for making sure you don't disappoint me. I present your commanding officer: Lieutenant Minh Young Kim.' As Hoffman finished his speech, a tall man with a shaved head stood up behind the Colonel. The man Baird presumed to be the Lieutenant was mixed race, part Pesang, part Tyran, and possessed of grey eyes the colour of stormclouds, eyes that were weary beyond their young years. There was steel there, and a will of Iron, like his pupils had been forged rather than grown. Everything about the man, from his upright posture and rigid shoulder blades to his carefully measured steps, every last detail smacked of a man who commanded utter respect and didn't take a smidge of crap from anybody. Finally, a front-line officer he could relate to.

'Delta Platoon!' Kim's voice was strangely soft spoken for a man of his rank, still possessing the commanding aura his station afforded him, yet at the same time offering subtle undercurrents of somebody who gave a damn about who he was talking to. 'For the next 30 days, it is our job to ensure the Locust don't even dream of taking this fortress! For the next 30 days, it is our job to uphold the honour of the COG Military, the honour that our fathers and grandfathers died to maintain! For the Next 30 days, it is our job to be the barrier between humanity and extinction! Delta Platoon, are you with me?'

The answering cry could have started an avalanche on the other side of Sera, even Baird joined in, and Baird _never_ got involved in rousing speeches. The Lieutenant clearly knew how to talk to people, which meant another box ticked in Baird's mental 'Is this guy worth half a second of my precious time' checklist. Seeing the look of intense concentration on Baird's face as he continued to scrunitise their CO, Sam chuckled heartily, utterly hell bent on detonating Baird's train of thought with her usual brand of verbal C4.

'It's okay Blondie, I won't use nasty big words like he did, I'll make sure your 'ickle brain is okay.'

'Go fuck a horse' sniped Baird, eyes homing in on their new target like a trigger-happy conscript holding his first Longshot.

'They're better hung than you are'

'So's your mum'

Sam was taken aback, staring at Baird open-mouthed like gravity cared about nothing else in the world but her lower jaw and was pulling it to earth as hard as it possibly could.

'Of all the comebacks in the world, of which I was convinced you were an encyclopaedia, you went for '_So's your mum?'_ that's pathetic. No, fuck that, you're Pathetic!'

'Well you'd have firsthand experience of that wouldn't you.'

'Well I would say some firsthand experience of a court martial would be in order here.' A voice breathed from behind them. Jumping out of their skins, the dastardly duo turned on the spot to find Lieutenant Kim barely a foot away, wearing a facial expression reminiscient of the Grim Reaper about to drag the world's sinners off for an eternity of torment. The pair had been too busy bickering that they hadn't paid the remotest scrap of attention to the crowd dispersing at the end of Kim's speech, or to said Lieutenant approaching in plain sight. Either this guy was very, very good. Or Baird was just an idiot. The blonde gear decided on the former, an existential crisis about his personality flaws was hardly what he needed at the present moment. Kim's voice latched on to Baird's consciousness and frog marched it out of daydream-land.

'Name and rank, both of you!' Sam snapped to attention faster than an eye blink, eager to backpedal out of this situation as fast as possible. Grudgingly Baird mirrored the movement.

'Private Samantha Byrne sir!'

'uh...Private Damon Baird...sir' although he shared Sam's eagerness to get out of here ASAP, Damon just could not bring himself to sound bothered, and had it not been for Lieutenant Kim's withering stare, Delta Platoon's resident jackass was certainly not planning on adding on the 'sir' at the end. When the going got tough, Baird stuck his head up his ass, it was becoming a Universal constant.

'Byrne and Baird huh?' Kim's look of contemplation left the sentence hanging in the air, like an invisible placeholder. When that evaporated, Kim produced a battered book from his pocket and began to flick through it. Squinting at the heavily faded words on the cover, Sam could just about make out that it was _'The Soldier's handbook'_, the standard issue rules and regulations manual for the COG armed forces. After what seemed like an age poring over the disciplinary section, Kim snapped the book shut and looked back up at them. 'Article 6, subsection 3 of the disciplinary code states that the penalty disorderly conduct on duty lies in the hands of the highest ranked soldier or officer on hand at the time, which happens to be me, and what a coincidence, my recon squad is two men short. We move out on patrol in four hours and I will expect you both there. Dismissed' Kim turned to leave, the law handed down when Baird spoke up.

'Err, sir...Is there an alternative assignment available?' Damon knew he'd put his foot in it from the moment he opened his mouth. Cocking a jovial, yet authoritarian eyebrow, Kim responded.

'Yes. I could have you assist the Conscripts' target practice sessions. The drill sergeant'll stick an apple on your head, and the rookies will attempt to shoot it off with Pendulum lancers, which are, as we all know, renowned for their _impeccable _accuracy...' Kim let the threat hang in the air, but Damon had already stepped back into line. The lieutenant turned, point made and strolled off rubbing his eyes. He didn't often allow sarcasm to enter his prince-like vocabulary, just as he made a point to avoid cursing. But there were exceptions to every rule, and when dealing with an individual like Damon Baird, beating them at their own game was always the best way to go. Minh rolled his eyes, admiring the stars that were just starting to peek out from the empty blackness.

30 Days as Damon Baird's Commanding Officer? He'd have sooner taken his chances with RAAM.

_And that's chapter 1! Just an idea that was knocking around that I'm going to work on expanding. Please review, and please, oh god please offer me some constructive critiscism. One line reviews are nice...just not very helpful._

_Happy New Year to you all_

_RFRG_


	2. Chapter 2: You and who's army?

_Hello again all two of you! Ready-Freddy is back with another chapter. If I fail my final exam, then I did it for you, because writing fanfiction is honestly more important to me than revising History...that's gonna bite me in the derriere later..._

_If any of you like this fic, please recommend it to other gears Authors you're in contact with, cus I want it to get a lot of readership and 'Baird and Kim' isn't going to cross too many people's minds when they search for characters. I probably shoulda thought of that when I published this fic, so help me correct my mistake _

_Keep on reading and reviewing: I challenge any of you to beat JadziaCee for the length of your reviews _

'_Penmanship, I choose you!'_

Chapter 2: You and who's army?

_Approx 7 miles from 'The Summit' outpost. 13 Years after E-Day._

'Trust you and your damn mouth' Sam spat in Baird's direction, hoping that somehow trading insults would warm up her nigh-frozen extremities. The Silverback mountains weren't exactly the most welcoming place on Sera, in fact, it was as though the very mountain air itself was deliberately trying to piss her off, which explained why Baird was casually strolling at her side, grinning like a four year old for Christmas.

'What? Is little Sammy becoming frail in her old age? Are your ancient bones not up to the chill, O Mighty bitch queen?' the blonde Gear let the sarcasm casually roll off his tongue, it was as though English was his second language, right after '_asshole'_

'Quiet back there!' sniped their CO, bringing the mortal enemies back into reality. Lieutenant Kim was wearing his best 'I am above you mere mortals' face, but the over-and-above facade was wearing thin under the wave of verbal crap that his punishment-detail squad-mates were hurling at each other. Satisfied that his particular notch in the chain of command had earned him a few precious minutes of peace, Kim allowed his eyes to scan the environment, right forefinger gingerly squeezing the trigger of his Pendulum-Era lancer. The outdated weapon had been within five square metres of Minh (provided he had a say in the matter) ever since his days as a Private, in the declining years of the Pendulum wars. A series of dashes on the left side of the barrel indicated Kim's personal kill-count of anything bigger than a boomer that he had felled in his career. The grisly tally stood currently at six, two of which were Brumaks and one of the latter had received its coup de'grace from the very weapon gripped lovingly in Kim's hand. Sure it had taken several minutes of persistent mortar fire to bring the beast down, but emptying a clip into its eye for good measure had felt so satisfying. Even if it didn't have the advantages of a chainsaw bayonet, this weapon still stood as a shining example of pure, unadulterated _badass._

'The tools of the trade make for good soldiers, but the bravery within our hearts makes for strong warriors.' Kim inclined his head upwards to see the speaker. Tai Kaliso stood a few inches taller than his Lieutenant and several wider, making him easily the biggest man in Delta Platoon. The man was possessed of an uncommon spirituality, not necessarily religious, more at peace with the world around him. Kaliso was a man happy to play his part turning the wheels of life, as well as the gears of war. The friendly giant smiled cheerily at Minh, who reciprocated the expression.

'Well said Tai, but having a decent gun doesn't exactly hurt.' The big man shrugged, looking back at their two newest comrades, who had resumed their argument. Rather than rise to the gauntlet, Tai busied himself looking for potential threats, whilst Kim activated his tac-com, hoping that Delta-two made for better conversation as much as anything else.

'Sergeant Owens, anything to report?' hailed Kim. The bald man was answered with naught but static for several seconds, before Delta-two's Sergeant's intonations found its way to his ears.

'I can see numerically bugger-all from hyre Leftenant, Longshot or no. I'm honestly far more concerned that my testicles are going to turn into icicles if I'm I'm out hyre much longer. You, Leftenant Kim, are robbing me of my unborn children!'

The sergeant's accent was strangely 'sing-songy' for a soldier, which had led many older gears, possessed of the 'Marcus Fenix' dialect, to ridicule him, but after years of experience Minh had come to respect the man's character, and there were few soldiers he'd have rather had at his back in a fire fight. It had been Owens who had assumed the role of Zeta Squad's fourth man after the battle of Ilima, three years prior, and his cheerful personality had gone a long way to numbing the pain of losing his predecessor.

_Rest in Peace Alicia_ mourned Minh inwardly, but the Lieutenant was shaken from his thoughts by Owens' voice cutting back in on the radio, an urgent undertone to his usual musical phonetics.

'Okay, scratch that Minh, I'm seeing movement. There's a small locust encampment about two klicks north of you. Looks like a grub-convoy's decided to stop and set up before dark.'

'Well at least we know they're as scared of the Kyrll as we are, how many can you see?' Even Baird and Sam had gone quiet at the prospect of an engagement with humanity's hollow-dwelling neighbours.

'Can't be sure, my line of sight's not brilliant, but I can confirm at least a baker's dozen drones...'

'And for those of us not in the bread-making business?' chimed in Baird, activating his own tac-com for the sake of causing mischief.

'It means thirteen Corporal, now shut the fuck up!' snarled Kim, allowing himself the luxury of the 'f-word' as a one off, beating Baird verbally back into line, leaving the blonde wise-ass staring at the ground like a wounded puppy. Kim had just enough time to watch a look of pure smugness dance across Sam's face before Owens resumed speaking.

'as I was saying, some thirteen drones, half a dozen grenadiers and...fuck...'

'What is it Sergeant, what are you seeing?' Kim replied, eyes subconsciously scanning their surroundings for an ambush.

'They've got themselves a Kantus and a handful of Theron Guards with those Torque Bows we all know and love.' Chimed Owens, the staccato kick of comm static failing to hide his sarcasm.

Kim nodded solemnly, he'd expected to see Locust activity this far from the base, but he hadn't anticipated quite this much.

'Roger that, Kaliso and I are heading to your position now, we'll regroup and take them by surprise.' Kim cut the line and turned to address his squad, all of whom were giving their commander their undivided attention.

'Right, Tai, you're with me, Byrne, Baird, you're our sniper support, carry on about a click and a half north, then find a good vantage point and signal us. Take out that Kantus first if you can, that should even the odds dramatically.'

'Sir!' the duo in question replied curtly. Orders given, Kim turned and marched off into the woods, Tai's giant frame following at his heels.

30 Minutes later

'Well this is just perfect aint' it?' grumbled Baird, pulling his goggles down over his eyes to shield them from the icy wind, only to remove them seconds later when they misted over, giving the mechanic the brief visage of having snowballs for eyes. 'Freezing my balls off in the ass-end of nowhere, facing certain death at the hands of the locust horde, and to make things just peachy, I've got _you_ for company'

Sam let her eyes loll skyward in their own time, why rush when dragging out the irritation was so much more satisfying? 'You cold Blondie? I thought your ass was doing a good job of keeping your head toasty?' Caught out without a comeback, Baird merely grunted.

It took them half an hour to reach the location Kim had pointed out for them, a tall cliff face overlooking a clearing in the woods below. The gap in the tree-line was about a hundred metres square and teeming with locust. At least thirty grubs were milling around several tents and what appeared to be scavenged trucks. Baird spared no sympathy for the stranded who'd owned the trucks previously, all was fair in love and brutal, no-holds-barred warfare...plus, they smelled disgusting...

'Byrne to Kim, Byrne to Kim, Lieutenant, are you reading me...damnit!' Sam swore at her earpiece as she was greeted by nothing but static. _They must be getting into position, _she thought, and let the worry slip from her mind. Casting her eyes upwards to the woodland canopy, she prodded Baird on the shoulder.

'Hey Damon? Any good at climbing trees.'

'First: Don't call me Damon, Second: I was thinking exactly the same thing.' For once the look on Baird's face showed no sarcasm, he genuinely _had_ been thinking it, not mooching off of the collective imagination of others for a change. Offering Sam a hand up, the blonde man propelled his comrade up onto the lowest branch of a fir tree, following close behind as the raven-haired Anvegad woman scampered on upwards. Finding a particularly comfortable branch that offered her convenient line-of-sight to the Locust assembly below, Sam unslung her Longshot, hefting it against her shoulder, staring down the sights at the camp on the valley floor.

'Baird to Kim, are you reading me? Pick up, for shit's sake where are you?' Sam heard her compatriot spitting into his tac-com a few branches below her. Resuming her concentration, she scanned the camp below. She could easily discern the Kantus that Owens had mentioned. The beast stood nearly twice the height of its servants, decked out in ornate blue robes that hung sagely from its wrinkled husk of a body. Surrounding it on all sides were Theron Guards; head-and-shoulders above the lesser locust creatures, the Theron's were the elite of the elite, their Torque Bows strapped to their back, menacing even with the safety on. Sam knew from experience what those hellish crossbows could do to a person, she'd seen too many Gears torn limb from limb by exploding torque arrows, they haunted her nightmares, the looks on their doomed faces when the arrows hit them; the half-second of unadulterated, brick-shitting terror before it all ended. Repressing a shudder, Sam turned back to her duties. The Kantus was walking across the clearing, its entourage of Therons following it, shouting out insults to their underlings, sadistic smiles resplendent across their gruesome faces. Something was wrong, Locust were never this smug. Following the Kantus for another few metres, it became apparent why.

'Fuck.' Exhaled Baird and Sam simultaneously: Knelt with their hands over their heads, in front of one of the locust trucks, bleeding from numerous minor wounds to the face and torso, were Kim, Tai and a red-headed man that Baird took to be Sergeant Owens. Piled in front of them, limbs at awkward angles, stomachs gutted and throats slit, were the corpses of Owens' squad, their still-warm entrails leaking everywhere, steaming in the freezing wind, the heat leaving their bodies long after life had.

'Those fuckers!' roared Baird, jumping from his perch in the tree, coming into a roll as he connected with the cold ground and sprinting off into the woods.

'BAIRD!' cried Sam, scared of blowing their cover and endangering the survivors of their squad further, but it was too late, the Blonde man was running hell-for-leather through the trees. Rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth, Sam leapt from her branch, hit the ground running and sprinted after him. As she neared the clearing, she saw Baird taking cover behind one of the locust trucks, the body of a drone at his feet, neck a full 180 degrees past where it should be. Wincing at pain that was not hers, Sam crept up into cover next to him. Noticing her presence, Baird nodded to her and peeked around the edge of the truck at the prisoners. The Kantus was pacing up and down past the three surviving Gears. Kim had locked eyes with the creature, staring certain death in the face with his head held high. Baird was struck by just how much their commanding officer embodied the word 'defiance', as though the words 'fuck the hell off' had been painted all across his face. Evidently displeased by Kim's silent rebellion, the Kantus raised its gnarled hand and slapped the officer across the face, sending Minh falling onto his side, to be prompty kicked in the gut by a particularly sadistic Theron.

'NOT TODAY COCKSUCKERS!' Roared Baird, leaping out from cover and letting fly a burst from his lancer. The triple bullet barrage crashed into the head of the Theron who'd kicked Minh, dropping him like a sack of offensive-looking potatoes. Not wanting to take his rescue for granted, Tai snatched up the dead Locust's Torque bow and embedded an arrow in another of the Kantus' bodyguards, kicking the dazed and doomed locust into one of his compatriots with just enough time to spare to watch the detonating dart blow them both to hell, splattering all nearby with eviscerated Locust bits. Owens decided to emulate his comrade's example, grabbing the Boltok pistol from the belt of the first fallen guard, cocking it and putting a round into the head of a nearby grenadier within half a heartbeat. Dashing over to where Kim lay dazed, Sam helped their commanding officer to his feet.

'Sir, are you alright?' she shouted, shaking the half-pesang man into full wakefulness.

'I'll be alright, I didn't get promoted this high for nothing, now give me a weapon!' nodding in affirmation, Sam tossed Kim her own Lancer, switching back to her Longshot and taking up position in one of the trucks, picking off any Locust nearby who dared pop their head out from cover.

Roaring like a man possessed, Baird dropped grubs left, right and centre, switching to fully automatic and cutting down the last Theron Guard with a volley of lancer rounds. Ducking to re-load without even bothering to take cover, Baird switched magazines in an eye-blink and returned to action, gunning down another Grenadier who'd tried to get in close with his Gnasher, when a sharp blow from behind knocked the blonde man from his feet, turning over, Baird saw the hellish form of the Kantus towering over him, bellowing it's guttural, unearthly cry to the heavens, the hellish sound dancing in Baird's ears like a sadistic harlot. He saw the creature aim its sidearm at his face, still screaming that ungodly yell. Baird had just enough time to realise he was about to die, enough time to feel the colour drain from his face, enough time to desperately, mentally cling to this existence for all he was worth...before the Kantus' head exploded.

'You owe me a beer for that one Blondie!' cried Sam, hefting her Longshot in the air, letting the personal victory sink in. Picking himself up and grabbing his weapon, Baird sprinted for the truck Sam was manning. Tai had joined her on the back, the South islander had lost his bow and had switched to a discarded Gnasher he'd found. A drone leaped up onto the truck brandishing a knife and bellowing a war cry, only to get brained by the stock of Tai's shotgun, after that, the Locust decided that long-ranged combat was probably the better idea. Baird wrenched open the truck door, finding Owens behind the wheel, trying to hot wire the vehicle, having as much luck as a four year old trying to grasp quantum mechanics.

'I've not got the foggiest trace of a shite how to get this to work, so if you know anything about electronics Blondie, hyre and now would be a good time!' spat the sing-song solider. Shoving him aside by way of a reply, Baird began tinkering at light-speed with the inner-workings of the vehicle. After barely a minute, the engine purred to life, like a lover in ecstasy under Baird's mechanic caress.

'Okay, it's official, I am the messiah!' exclaimed Baird, but his self-deifying didn't last very long, rudely interrupted as it was by a massive, grotesque shape slamming into the bonnet of the truck. Apparently, headshots aren't necessarily lethal to a Kantus. The locust priest, was screaming defiantly at Baird through the remaining half of it's face, blood still spraying from it's pseudo mortal wound. A clawed hand shattered the windscreen, grasping out for the mechanic, trying to rip him limb from limb in retribution. Suddenly, a cacophony of revving sounds could be heard, like the prodigal nails on a blackboard. The Kantus screamed in unholy agony, as blood splattered what remained of the windscreen. The Locust priest spasmed for about ten seconds, then lay still. Baird stood in shock for several seconds, facing the sure and certain knowledge of imminent death twice in as many minutes had set his consciousness on stun, that is until Lieutenant Kim appeared in the truck doorway next to him, blood caking the top half of his body, bits of Kantus meat embedded in the teeth of his chainsaw bayonet.

'Private Baird, I believe your beer tab just increased, now let's get the fuck out of here.'

_And that's chapter 2! I know I didn't include a preset day setting this time, but I needed to devote an entire chapter to the flashback to do it justice. Before any of you nitpick, I deliberately had Owens say 'Hyre and Leftenant' it was my way of trying to phonetically type his accent, which is meant to be Welsh, or whatever part of Sera is analogus to Wales. I'll improve on my phonetics as I go along. I'm hoping Owens doesn't end up as some Mary Sue character, so any help you could offer me on how to mould an OC character into a well rounded individual would be good _

_Postscript: Thanks JadziaCee once again for your support, I've re-uploaded this chapter with all the typos and grammatical errors that you spotted ironed out. Thanks a million _

_Please read and review sensibly._

_It's good to be writing regularly again _

_Arrivaderci!_

_RFRG_


	3. Chapter 3: Conversationalist

Chapter 3: Conversationalist.

Baird and Sam's cabin. Anvegad. 20 years after E-Day

Sam smiled contentedly as her husband took a break in his tale to fix up some tea. Judging by the gentility of the baby's movement within her, and the general rush of positively-charged hormones she was experiencing, she took a rough guess that her unborn child was enjoying listening to their daddy's tale. The baby hadn't even kicked at the swearing; evidently 'Gear vocabulary' was genetic. Sam gazed out of the window at the swirling snow outside, alighting gingerly on the windowsill. Despite everything, she couldn't repress a frown at the memory of the skirmish Baird had recounted. She'd never said it to him, but seeing him dash of into the woods, ready to take on the whole Locust army by himself to save his comrades, had scared her shitless. It had been many years before she had found out why; and she thanked God with all her heart that the Blonde arsehole she'd loved to hate was here, swearing at the kettle for taking forever and a day to boil, rather than on the mounds of corpses that had once been Delta-two, left to erode slowly in the icy winds of the Silverback mountains.

'Yo, lardass! Pregnancy making you go senile or are you just gorming out for the hell of it?' she turned her attention back to the speaker: Damon was standing in the kitchen doorway, hefting two steaming mugs of tea, cocking the 'gather round and marvel at my divine power' eyebrow that he'd perfected since E-day. That eyebrow had earned him several beatings, some half a dozen demotions, a stint in a Locust 'processing' cell, and a wife. Go figure.

'Just taking in the scenery, anything's better than the vista before me.' She chimed back, fixing Baird with a pointed stare and mirroring her spouse's eyebrow. Some women marry guys for the money, not Sam, she'd married Baird to shove his own sarcasm back down his throat…oh, and she loved him unconditionally, that too.

'Do you want your lovingly prepared tea or not?' her husband replied, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Taking her initial hesitation as a 'Yes, oh master' Baird handed his wife her mug and returned to the chair opposite her, taking a sip of his own concoction. A long silence followed, Sam's thoughts trailing back to the skirmish on the Silverback foothills.

'Why did you run straight into the fight that day?' asked Sam, weighing up her words, 'I mean, I'm glad we didn't lose the others that day…' she paused, struck by the fact that despite their efforts, more than one of those men had still met their end at Locust hands one way or another. Sam was spared from her melancholy by her husband's calm, calculated response.

'Because of who we were saving. Kim was the only superior officer I've ever served under, and this includes Marcus and Hoffman, who never once struck me as an ass.' Sam nodded, but said nothing, letting her husband continue with his soul searching. 'I'd finally found an officer worth a damn, and I didn't want the guy to die thinking I was a total fuckhole…too many people have done that, and I didn't want him to be one of them.'

Calculating her response carefully, Sam replied, comfort lacing her voice. 'I'm sure he didn't die thinking that.' Baird's response was twofold, he smiled, which was a rare occurrence for anybody except for Sam to witness, but it didn't reach his eyes. It took her a few seconds to realise why, before the guilt settled in: Baird had been there when Kim died, he'd seen the Lieutenant he'd admired get gutted by General RAAM in front of the house of Soverigns, and been unable to do anything to save him. It had been the first time the master mechanic had been truly powerless.

'It's why I was such an asshole to Fenix initially' her husband replied, reading her mood like only a true lover can. 'Covering up for the grief.' Sam nodded understandingly, nobody knew better than she just how many layers of emotion Baird possessed, or just how often his witty guiles were a mask for something far different. Changing tact, Sam reached over, surprisingly agile for a pregnant woman, and rested a hand on Baird's shoulder, their identical pairs of blue eyes homing in on each other. Nothing really needed to be said, a glance between them could convey a billion words, as though each blink of the eye and each twitch of a smile were poets in their own right, expressing their deepest emotions in silent iambic pentameter. But voicing one's beliefs was always good as an added support.

'Kim was one of the reasons you turned into the man you are. To use the corniest turn of phrase imaginable, he lives here.' She rested a hand on Baird's heart. Nothing was said for several seconds, but Sam knew the mood in the room had lifted. The patented 'Baird brows' were raising slowly, and a smile was playing about his face, which was lit up like Divali on the Vegas strip.

'Alright, so now that we've established that my own wife thinks I'm gay, can I get back to telling our kid a story?'

A light kick somewhere behind Sam's bellybutton provided the answer.

_The Canteen at 'The Summit' outpost. 4 hours after the Skirmish in the Clearing. 13 Years after E-Day._

'An' I say's to the Leftenant; you're robbing me of my unborn children!_'_ It was the third time in as many quarters of an hour that Sam had heard Owens recount his drunken tale of their run-in with the Kantus' troops, and while the Sergeant clearly displayed a knack for anecdotal storytelling, it was starting to grate Sam's nerves. Necking the last of her piss-esque whiskey, the brunette drifted away from the Canteen's bar and made for the door, leaving Owens to entertain his gaggle of half-plastered Privates.

The wind had died down from its usual mid-day peak, leaving the odd gust of chilly breeze to waft aimlessly across the base. Rubbing her arms for warmth, Sam strolled across the central courtyard, recalling the argument she'd shared with a certain blonde soldier on this very spot mere hours before. She failed to suppress a chuckle as she realised that that same argument had ended up being the catalyst for Owens' dramatic monologue that was going on back in the bar. Fate had a funny way of dealing its cards, but remarkably it always ended up with a royal flush, so it would seem.

A muffled voice from somewhere above her caused Sam's eyes to scan upwards. She recognised the voice easily, even with the wind censoring it to the point of incoherence. A certain sarcastic remark about sam's mother strolled casually back into her mind, just as it's owner strolled equally casually across the base's ramparts, engaged in conversation with Lieutenant Kim to brighten the monotony of patrol-duty. Baird seemed, to her pleasant surprise, rather happy for once; his mouth drawn into a real smile instead of his commonplace scowl, his radiant blonde buzz-cut matted with pearly white snowflakes, though Sam much preferred to imagine his white-specked hairdo was the result of a pigeon dive-bomb attack.

'Your friend seems uncommonly cheerful.' intoned a heavily accented voice beside her, causing Sam to jump, drawing a deep, bass chuckle from the speaker. Composing herself, Sam replied.

'Jesus Tai, you scared the crap outta me.' Kaliso smiled heartily, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Mirroring Tai's smile, Sam cast her eyes upwards at her comrade, who was listening intently to something Kim was saying.

'I've never seen the guy so attentive, he usually just flips off anybody who tries to lecture him, _especially_ superior officers.' She replied. The big man nodded sagely. For a guy bearing a dragon tattoo across half his face, Tai had to be the most un-warlike Gear she'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, as well as the strangest. Having a philosophical mind amongst her squadmates made for a welcome break from the brutal 'shoot-or-be-brutally-hacked-to-death' simplicity of the Locust war.

'He would not be the first 'high-maintenance' gear to mellow out under Lieutenant Kim's command.' The giant replied, his smile peaking as he added; 'If you ever meet Michael Barrick, you'll know what I mean.'

'I'll add that to my to-do list.' She replied, but the familiar crunch of standard issue COG boots on snow cut her off. Turning around, she was greeted by the sight of a surprisingly sobered up Owens, wearing an expression reminiscent of someone who's just witnessed a particularly beer-goggle shattering version of Armageddon.

'Where the fuck is the Leftenant?' he spat.

Ten Minutes Earlier

Sentry duty, the most downright dull of all the monotonous, time consuming, yet essential tasks that befall a Gear over the course of his career. And to make matters worse, it was snowing. Baird's list of things to whine and bitch about hadn't been expended since E-day, a statistic that was never likely to change much. Gripping his Lancer for comfort, Baird paced across the Summit's ramparts, staring out across the expanse of Pine tree-clad mountains, a serrated mass of earthy daggers, dotted with flecks of emerald and pearl. At least the view was good. If the wilderness could be defined as 'good'.

'Admiring the view Private?' Baird didn't turn around, instead letting the speaker sidle up next to him. Lieutenant Kim's expression was uncharacteristically blank, with the odd quirk of several emotions. Humour, Authoritarianism and several staccato bursts of intrigue had painted themselves across his face is small doses, as though Picasso had attempted to recolor his visage in the middle of a mood swing, followed by a bout of ADHD.

'Trying to not let this bore my ass off sir.' Came Baird's curt reply, earning a raised eyebrow, and strangely enough, a smile from the superior officer.

'I suppose I owe you one for saving us earlier.' Intoned Minh, changing the subject. Baird shrugged, he'd been afraid his one-off bout of heroism would spark conversation.

'You already did, I'dve been a Kantus appetiser if it weren't for you, albeit a ridiculously sexy appetiser.'

Rolling his eyes, Kim dispensed with the current conversation, lest his newfound respect for his subordinate be grated down by the man's mouth.

'Can I ask you something sir?' inquired Baird, all trace of sarcasm removed from his phonetics for once.

'Go ahead Private, what's on your mind?'

'Why do you always carry a Pendulum Lancer? I mean, those things used to dislocate my shoulder periodically before Professor Fenix graced us with the current model.' Baird raised an intrigued eyebrow at his CO, who glanced down at the dated weapon in his hand. He'd lost his trusty assault rifle in the skirmish on the valley floor, and it had brought a pang of regret to his heart to see the weapon that had gotten him through the Pendulum wars left behind. He'd spent every minute since returning from the engagement at the armoury, turning over stacks of weapons until he'd found this one, discarded in a corner, a forgotten relic of a forgotten era, coated in a blanket of dust to keep it safe from the changing times.

'It's true that statistically, the Mk 2 Lancer exceeds its older sister here,' he indicated his own weapon, 'in terms of rate of fire and CQB effectiveness.' Kim began, eyes boring into Baird's own with prophetic wisdom, 'But it doesn't have half the stopping power of a Retro Lancer, and for a Pendulum War relic like myself, it's not particularly hard to handle. I could drop a locust from two hundred and fifty yards with a burst from this weapon, most 'Mk 2' fan-boys would use up a whole clip doing the same job.' Kim smiled at his own rare bout of colloquialism. Satisfied, but still thinking Kim was a tad crazy, Baird walked on, picking his brains for another conversation starter to kill the monotony.

'So what's the deal with Owens? The guy sounds like he should be leading a choir, not shooting grubs.'

Kim's expression turned sparsely stony. 'Sergeant Owens is a much better soldier than most of the COG give him credit for, even if he does sound a little too musical.' Kim's visage softened. 'He's saved my life once or twice, and he's a dead-shot with any sidearm you care to give him.' Baird had no difficulty believing that statement, recalling how quickly the sing-song sergeant had detached a Theron Guard's head from its shoulders when a Boltok pistol came to hand. 'He's a good man, and a fine soldier, and when he's not drinking himself half to death you could learn a lot from him.' Baird genuinely chuckled at that last comment, but was cut off by the object of their conversation sprinting towards them along the wall.

'The hills are alive…' Baird began singing, it had been a whole four hours since he'd pissed somebody off, and it was killing him. Owens shot him a stare that could make Satan shit himself.

'Fuck you very much cockwipe…' The sergeant began, before Kim stepped between them, addressing his squadmate.

'Rhys, what's the problem?' the Lieutenant asked, leaving Baird with an expression that blantatly, yet silently cried: _What the hell kind of name is Rhys?_ Rather than rise to Baird's speechless taunt, Owens addressed his superior.

'Control picked up a multitude of signals heading this way sir, thousands of the Wankers, probably be hyre by midnight.' Kim grimaced, was one battle a day not enough? Of course it wasn't.

'but that's not all sir, there's another group of signals headed towards us, coming from the west, presumably by air.'

'Locust?' asked Kim, turning about and staring across the western horizon. Sure enough, several dots were visible in the half-light, moving towards the fortress at great speed, much faster than the Locust could travel.

'No sir…' Owens collected himself, 'Indies, sir…It's the bloody UIR!'

_Ah! Sorry it's about five days later than I said it would be, I have no excuse other than I finally got Xbox live, and have been playing RAAM's shadow incessantly. Sorry for getting so addicted and letting my writing schedule slip. I hope to have the next chapter up much quicker. Bear with me, and I shall deliver._

_Keep on reading and reviewing _

_RFRG_


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